


Astronaut!AU

by meeks00



Category: Generation Kill
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-29
Updated: 2011-05-29
Packaged: 2017-10-28 20:04:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/311671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meeks00/pseuds/meeks00
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Walt lies flat, moon rocks digging into his back past the cushion of his suit. He wonders absently why he didn’t duck out of this mission first chance he got.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Astronaut!AU

Walt lies flat, moon rocks digging into his back past the cushion of his suit. He wonders absently why he didn’t duck out of this mission first chance he got.

“Hasser?” Brad’s voice is stiff, as if he was the one who just got head-butted for no fucking reason whatsoever. “Report, over.”

Tapping the ground to push up, Walt looks through the shaded lens of his helmet to where Ray is space-running over the dips and crags away from Bravo, blue powder dusting behind him like he’s a space roadrunner.

It’s funny-looking, in the way that everything Ray does is kind of funny-looking, but his legs are going at it really fast and hard. It looks like he’s trying to escape but can’t quite get it right. It’s sad then, in a surprisingly not-so-funny way.

Space’ll do that to you, Walt thinks as his feet touch ground again.

He glances behind him at the ship, at the planets floating there behind it like an assortment of colorful, lost balloons.

“Walt!”

“I’m good, Brad,” Walt finally replies. “We’re all good.”

It’s empty here, like it is everywhere else. And Ray’s trying to run around the entire moon like there’s anything left to find.

“Ray’s comms are fucked. Can’t hear a thing from him,” Brad says. “I’m starting to miss his hick twang.”

“I’ll get him,” Walt replies. “He’s goin’ nowhere fast.”

He watches when Ray trips and lands face first in slow motion, not even trying to break his fall with his hands even though he has maybe six seconds to do it.

“I’m disconnecting from the main, Brad. Gimme a sec here.”

“Roger.”

In the time it takes Walt to reach him, Ray rolls over onto his back and rests his arms on his chest like one of those ancient Egyptian mummies from the old articles. Ray’s lens is dusty, but he stares straight past Walt into the atmosphere as if he can see Ra, or maybe Earth, somewhere out there in a reality Walt’s not sure even exists anymore.

Walt changes his radio channel.

“Ray. Ray, I know you copy, you fuckin’ asswipe.” He meant to be nice about it, considering Ray seems to be imitating a corpse, but everything he says to Ray tends to come out in Asshole instead of Standard English.

“I disconnected my comms,” Ray replies. His voice sounds weird, like his body is fogging up instead of his helmet lens. “I can’t hear you.”

“Look. It’s no use wastin’ time out here. The hell’s up with you?”

“Space kiss,” says Ray.

“You trippin’, man?” says Walt.

Ray lets out a heavy breath that sounds strangely like a laugh. “I was giving you a space kiss, fucknut. We finally get a minute alone and I near crack my stupid lens with your stupid lens in stupid zero gravity.”

Walt thinks of home, then. He thinks of the ocean and country fields and his momma, of accepting missions because there was no alternative when home was leaving with or without you.

He reaches out a huge, gloved hand.

It takes Ray seven seconds to stand straight on the ground again.

Bravo seems about as far away as Earth right now, meters and meters across just another uninhabited moon orbiting around yet another uninhabited planet.

Ray extends his own hand, and it’s cushioned by the suit glove, but his grip is tight in Walt’s.


End file.
